


Theories of Uncertainty

by Levstrong



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Post-Canon, Gen, I'm making this up as I go, Original Character - Freeform, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-18
Updated: 2019-03-09
Packaged: 2019-10-31 02:53:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,063
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17841053
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Levstrong/pseuds/Levstrong
Summary: Six Hargreeves children land safely in the early aughts, or a version of it.One is... Somewhere else. Or they aren't. It's hard to say. Physics and all that.





	1. There are Pros and Cons to This

**Author's Note:**

> Much like Luther, I do not have a plan. So I guess let's just throw some spaghetti at the wall and see what sticks.
> 
> Also, it will become wildly obvious, but I haven't read the comics at all.

Number Five  _ had _ said things would get messy. He was not wrong. The jump from the Icarus to wherever (whenever) they were going had been turbulent. Maybe it was because Five made it look so easy, but they were thoroughly unprepared for the way they lurched and bucked through the blinding light of… was it the timestream? The space-time continuum? 

 

Whatever it was, it tossed them around like popcorn. If Klaus was honest, this was not even close to the most nauseous he'd ever been. It still wasn't pleasant, but it was something akin to bearable. Based on the way that Luther was clenching his jaw next to him, he didn't share in that sentiment. Klaus felt Diego's hand slip away, and for a moment he slipped into a panic, but his brother found new purchase at his shoulder, and his nerves…. Well, they didn't calm, per se, but he felt less like shrieking into the void, and that counted for something.

 

After a few more moments (or perhaps after an eternity. Hard to say.), there was a final, stomach-dropping shift, and they were mercifully deposited into a patch of grass. Klaus shut his eyes against the sudden presence of sunlight and groaned. Diego's hand was still on his shoulder, gripping so tight that it was beginning to hurt. Klaus reached up and tried to pry his fingers loose.

 

“I think you can let go now, Diego.” His now-younger voice didn't sound quite right in his ears, but more concerning to him was the response.

 

“Klaus.” It was close to his ear, more mumbled than anything else, and it was not any iteration of Diego's voice that Klaus could recall. But he recognized it all the same. He sat up, opening his eyes.

 

Seeing Ben was not out of the ordinary for him, but it was always the Ben-that-Died, not the Tiny Ben that was lying in the grass next to him. But he was there and solid, Klaus wasn't exerting the necessary effort to make him solid, so that was promising. He laughed and leaned forward, letting his forehead rest against Ben's shoulder. Definitely there. Definitely real. At least something good had come out of this fucking terrible dumpster fire of a week.Year? Did his time in 1968 count? Sure, he figured. Fuck it. If that didn't count, then what the hell did?

 

Klaus lifted his head and took inventory. Ben sat up and took a deep breath, probably just because  he could. Klaus couldn't fault him for that. A fully human Luther was still holding onto an unconscious Vanya while also managing to lean and check on Allison, who look ruffled, but no worse for wear. In fact, her hand was resting on her noticeably unslashed throat. Five was an oatmealish shade of gray, but he was already picking himself up off the ground and brushing dirt from his knees. He was shaking a little, but he wasn't puking. Surprisingly, no one was. Klaus didn't want to say it out loud, lest he jinx it, but for once things were going well.

 

“So, uh,” Ben started. He'd moved so that he was on his knees, pressing his hands first against the grass, then against Klaus's arm. The contact made him smile, and he grinned up at Klaus. “Holy shit.”

 

“Holy shit!” Luther said from across the way, echoing Ben. He sounded relieved, which was no surprise. Klaus had no doubts that their fearless leader had been blaming himself for their brother's death. “Klaus, are you---”

 

“Nope,” Ben cut in. He was still pushing gently at Klaus's shoulder. “All me.”

 

Luther was already on his feet, stumbling over to them with a still-sleeping Vanya held fast in his arms and Allison at his side. Living the dream, Klaus thought to himself. Good for him. They flocked around Ben, tumbling to the grass and trying to manage some kind of group hug. Which of course was awkward, given that one of them was unconscious, and Five's involvement was limited to a stiff pat on Ben's shoulder as they crowded together. And of course Diego was…. Klaus frowned and did a head count. Ben, Luther, Vanya, Allison, Five…. Wait. Ben, Luther, Vanya, Allison, Five….

 

“Diego?” he called out, drawing the attention of his other siblings. Klaus extricated himself from the odd tangle of limbs and stood, knees shaking just a touch. He looked around again. He couldn't see Diego anywhere, and he didn't hear any kind of response either.

 

“Diego!” Luther's voice boomed. The thrum of panic from before returned full force, and Klaus looked to Five. An unspoken question flew between them. Five ran a hand through his hair and shook his head.

 

“Shit,” Klaus said, dropping back to his knees.

 

* * *

 

“Options?” Luther asked. 

 

They'd searched the immediate area and found no sign of Diego. They had, however, been able to determine that they were at a campground that wasn't too terribly far from the city, and based on their ages, it was probably sometime in the early aughts. Not much, but something. Five, who'd been sitting cross-legged on a fallen tree trunk in complete silence, looked up at the tallest Hargreeves sibling.

 

“I already told you. I've never brought anyone with me,” he said. “The possibilities are---”

 

“Then start with the most probable,” Allison interjected. She was sitting in the grass, with Vanya's head resting on her lap.

 

“He lost his grip during the jump and fell out of it.” Klaus felt his stomach drop to right around his knees.

 

“So he got left behind?” Luther asked.

 

“Possibly. Or maybe he landed in another year,” Five said, his brow furrowing. He did not sound as worried as Klaus felt he should've. He never did. “Or he's still. You know. In there.”

 

He waved his hand vaguely upward. 

 

“So he's dead, or he's lost, or he's trapped in the not-so-lazy river from hell,” Klaus said. Even in his teen body, he figured that he'd done a good enough job of commanding his usual levels of theatrics. That was at least something in his control.

 

“Okay,” Luther said. A few seconds passed, and he rubbed at the back of his neck before making a second pass. “Okay. We should figure out a place to sleep. And when exactly we are. And what to do when Vanya wakes up.”

 

He was definitely building the plane underneath him as he flew, a fact that everyone knew and no one blamed him for, but Klaus still felt the knot of anxiety twisting in his stomach. 

 

“What about Diego?”

 

Luther opened his mouth, as if he fully intended to answer the question, but no words came out. He didn't have an answer. He wasn't even sure where to start. Floundering, he looked to Five, who'd hopped off the tree trunk and taken to pacing.

 

“Luther’s right,” he sighed. “There isn't anything we can do for Diego right now. We have no idea where or when he is. If he even  _ is _ at all.”

 

“Oh good,” Klaus said with all the sarcasm he could muster. Anything to distract from the panic. “Such a comforting thought.”

 

Beside him, Ben closed a hand around his and squeezed. Klaus wasn't sure if his newly corporeal brother was trying to comfort him or himself. But it was something.

  
  
  
  



	2. This is a Bad Town for Such a Pretty Face

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Diego sees some shit (thanks, he hates it), lands in the wrong time line, and meets a ghost. Kind of.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's an original character in this chapter, and they'll sort of be in the background throughout.
> 
> Also, based on the presence of technology in the show, it doesn't look like they had cell phones or laptops or maybe not even internet? So that's the baseline I'm going to be using for Diego's point of reference re: technology.

He was moving. Or he wasn’t. It felt like motion, the uncontrollable kind over head over heels and side to side. Laundry in a dryer. Or maybe an astronaut freewheeling through space. He’d have to ask Luther about it, if he ever saw Luther again. He couldn’t see any of his siblings now. Just that bluish light, flickering in and out. The only noise was the wail of wind singing past his ears, so loud that he couldn’t hear himself shouting as he shot through space-time.

 

_ The year is 1994. His grandmother tucks him into bed and tells him the story about the crazy billionaire who’d tried to buy him from his mother. He listens with wide eyes and wonders what his life would be like if his mother had let him go. _

 

Diego sucked in a breath. What the hell was that? It felt like remembering, but he’d never had a grandmother, not one he’d ever met, and his birth mother, whoever she was,  _ had _ let him go. So why did it feel like a life he’d known? Why was it familiar?

 

_ It’s 2011, and he rubs his eyes as he pores over his notes. He’d wanted to take the detective’s exam as soon as possible, but Eudora had talked him out of it. She’d said it’d be better to wait. They could study and take it together. Diego liked that. He prods at the mug on his desk, a gift that Ben (and Klaus, if the card was to be believed) had handed him after he’d graduated from the police academy. Empty. He needs a refill. He stands, stretches, puts a hand on Eudora’s shoulder. _

 

_ “I’m going for a refill. You need one?” Eudora hands him her mug and yawns. _

 

_ “Yeah, thanks, babe.” _

 

Okay, seriously, what the shit? Diego growled, though the sound was lost to the howl around him. He reached out, searching for something, anything to grab onto. But there was nothing. Just him and the wind and memories that were and weren’t his, flying in and out of his head.

 

_ It’s 2019. Diego tracks Klaus to a shithole motel, finds him strapped to a chair, bleeding. He feels anger well up in his chest as he cuts away the duct tape. He’s so focused on freeing his brother that he doesn’t hear the movement behind him until it’s too late. He turns and hurls the knife that he brought to a gunfight. Usually it works for him. Not this time. He hears Klaus shout, and feels the world spin--- _

 

The pain was so sharp in his mind that his hands went to his chest. Distantly he felt himself cry out. Out. Diego wanted out. Now. But what the hell was he supposed to do with this? He could move, and he could reach his knives, but to what end? It’s not like he could stab time. Or maybe he could. The freaky time travel shit was really more Five’s arena. Diego hadn’t exactly had the luxury of thirty years to learn quantum physics. Or a power that allowed him some modicum of influence over his apparent freefall.

 

As he plummeted (or ascended? Or was time and space itself the thing that was moving?), the howling began to change. It swelled, then diminished. It rose in pitch until it became tea-kettle shrill, then pitched down into a body-shaking rumble. Diego tasted copper in his mouth, clenched his teeth to try and do something about the rattle. 

 

And then he was falling for real, just for a moment, before he made abrupt contact with a cracked sidewalk. Pain shot up his arm, but he brushed it off, scrambling to his feet and trying to get his bearings. It was dark, but the street looked familiar enough. He limped a few steps to the side to get out of the way. 

 

He wasn’t a kid. He had been, when he’d gotten sucked up into the vortex with the rest of his family, but now he was grown again, back in the leather uniform that he wore on patrols. All his knives were in place. He felt alright, other than the pain from the landing and the general sense of exhaustion. He squinted down the dark street, determined which way pointed home, and started walking. It must’ve been late; there were barely any people out, and the ones he did pass walked by him without so much as a glance.

 

He needed to find out when he'd landed, try and find his siblings. The mansion seemed like the best place to start. Hopefully he'd at least traveled far enough back that it was still standing. That way he could at least save Mom. He felt a twinge of regret in his gut and pressed onward. They'd failed pretty spectacularly, but they could still fix it. Maybe. He reached the end of the block and took a left. It was also possible that he'd arrived too late again. He picked up his pace, slowing only when the mansion came into view. 

 

It didn't look like any of the lights were on, but that wasn't so unusual. He pushed through the gate and walked through the front door. A light blinked on as he stepped over the threshold, and he heard a soft whirring sound from somewhere above. A young-looking person appeared out of nowhere, glowing slightly in the dark foyer. Diego tensed and reached for one of his knives.

 

“You should know,” the person said, inspecting their fingernails as they spoke, “that my automated protocols have alerted the authorities that there’s an intruder on the grounds.”

 

They glanced up at him, tilting their head as they looked him over with heavy-lidded, heavily make-up’d eyes. They broke into a smile and shrugged, laughing a little before they continued.

 

“But then you should also know that all the police are dead, so no one’s actually coming to bust you.” 

 

“What the hell are you talking about? And who the hell are you?” Diego was not an idiot. Obviously the place he’d landed in was some version of home. Maybe it was an alternate universe or something? An alternate universe with weird, glowing ghost people that sort of reminded him of Klaus.

 

“I’m Nerv,” the person said slowly, narrowing their eyes and putting their hands on their hips. “I’m the house AI. But who are you? And more importantly, how are you here? You’re… You’re a person. Like a human one.”

 

Diego did not know what other kinds of persons there were or what kinds Nerv had met, but they seemed more shocked by that fact that he existed than they were by the fact that he had trespassed. And they seemed incredibly nonchalant about the knives. He sighed and shook his head. It wasn’t like this was the weirdest thing to happen to him all night, but he was in no fucking mood for this.

 

“Diego,” he said. “And I was travelling with my family. Got a little lost, apparently. Why aren’t there any people here?”

 

“Global plague. Wiped 'em all out,” Nerv said. They rubbed at their arm self-consciously for a moment before continuing. “So you’re definitely not from like. Here. Not this here, right? I mean, obviously you’re not from  _ this _ here. Cause you’re alive. That makes you statistically unique."

 

"Thanks," Diego said flatly. "So is that how you died?"

 

He had undeniable proof that ghosts were real. But he'd never seen one without Klaus conjuring them, and it had been a long-ass time since his brother had been sober enough to do that. Nerv stared at him for a moment, confused.

"What are you talking about? I'm not a person. I told you, I'm the house AI. This is my hologram." They waved an arm to gesture at themself, as if that explained everything. Now it was Diego's turn to stare.

 

"You don't have that where you're from?" Nerv asked. They didn't sound judgmental. Fascinated was more like it.

 

"Only in movies," he replied. "What kind of place is this?

 

"It was a school," Nerv paused and made a face. "Well. Sort of. C'mon. I can show you."

 

A light flickered on in the main hall, and Nerv began walking. Their footsteps didn’t make any noise. Diego debated for a moment before putting his knives away. He’d already participated in starting an apocalypse tonight. Why not follow a ghost through some alternate version of his childhood home?

 

There was a portrait on the wall, and in it there was a tall, severe looking woman surrounded by a cluster of uniformed children. Eerily familiar, but different enough that Diego paused. The plaque underneath read: “Lady R. Hargreeves and the Inaugural Class of the Umbrella Institute.”

 

“Shit,” Diego muttered.


	3. Just This for Now

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Klaus claims a space. Vanya takes a nap. Ben cries. Allison is a better sister than she gives herself credit for. Five and Luther solve a mystery.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The summary is a little deceptive. Klaus and Vanya aren't in this one a whole lot. Just letting y'all know up front.

Camp Mirror Lake was a cluster of ten, small cabins, a sectioned shower station, and the most precarious looking dock that Luther had ever seen in his life. Had he still been in his adult body, he wouldn’t even dare look at it too hard, let alone stand on it. The camp was also secluded, and according to the sign, recently abandoned for the end of summer, which made it a good enough base of operations until they could determine exactly when they’d landed and what the situation back at the academy was.

 

Klaus had rushed past him as soon as they’d wandered into the camp’s main clearing, shouting “DIBS!” at the tops of his lungs as he barreled into the least dilapidated looking cabin. Ben had said something to Allison, to which she’d nodded, and the two of them split off. Five disappeared, reappearing inside the furthest cabin and shutting the door. Luther felt the knee-jerk reaction to pull rank, tell them not to break off until they laid out a plan, but he shoved it down. They weren’t numbers anymore. Well, except for Five, technically. But that wasn’t what Luther meant. 

 

He sighed and picked out one of the bigger cabins and gently set Vanya down on the bed. There were two chairs, one by the door, and another by the far wall. He grabbed one and sat at Vanya’s bedside. It was funny; normally, people looked smaller and more vulnerable when they slept. Like Five. But Vanya didn’t look smaller. Younger, sure, but for once she didn’t seem small at all. Which was saying something, because normally everyone seemed tiny to Luther.

 

Was it odd that she was still asleep? It had been a few hours since they’d landed. Then again, she had channeled enough energy to blow up the actual moon, so maybe taking a super long nap was a perfectly proportional response. Luther frowned. He didn’t have the answers, and he could practically hear Diego in his head, angry and asking him what the plan was. Luther took a breath. He couldn’t think about Diego. Not yet. They needed to figure out things in the here and now, as it were.

 

“Luther.” Klaus’s voice from the doorway stirred him from his thoughts. He brother was fidgeting with a long piece of grass, winding and unwinding it around his finger. “Five said he’s going to town. And Allison said that he shouldn’t go alone, but as she is tied up with a very important task, and someone---”

 

“What kind of important task?” Luther asked, but Klaus merely batted a hand at him.

 

“Very important. Trust me. As I was saying. Someone needs to stay with Vanya, and someone needs to go with Five. And let’s face it, you’re much better at clandestine reconnaissance than I am, so….” He arched an eyebrow and grabbed a chair from by the door, dragging it to the bed. 

 

“Are you sure?” Luther asked. It wasn’t like Klaus to volunteer to stay behind. Not unless he was in a bad way, which didn’t seem to be the case. Klaus leaned forward, resting his elbows on the foot of the bed and propping his chin on his hands.

 

“Am I sure I don’t want to walk all the way to the city and potentially have to look at the old man again? Absolutely,” he grinned. Luther nodded and stood. He expected to have to run and try to catch Five before he could use his powers to jump, but to his surprise, the other boy was waiting outside, hands in his pockets, scuffing his toe against the dirt.

 

“Took you long enough,” he said, already walking. But it didn’t feel like he had the full force of his usual bluster behind it. Luther looked his brother over. He wasn’t gray anymore, but he looked exhausted. Pulling them all back in time must’ve really done a number on him. Luther wasn’t sure whether he should point that out or not, so he just shrugged and fell into step with his brother.

 

“Just wanted to make sure that Vanya was comfortable. Let’s go.”

 

* * *

Ben felt the sting in his eyes and blinked to try and catch the tears, but it didn’t do much to help. Embarrassed, he swept at his face with his sleeve. Allison patted his shoulder, then let her hand rest gently between his shoulder blades.

 

“Are you alright?” she asked. Ben nodded and let out a shaky breath, swallowing so he could speak.

 

“Yeah,” he said. “I just. I didn’t expect it to be so….”

 

He didn’t know how to explain, but Allison seemed to understand. Her hand made a few comforting circles on his back.

 

“I can’t imagine. I just wish we’d found more than peanut butter and jelly.”

 

The camp had not had much in the way of food, but by some miracle, there’d been half a loaf of bread and jars of peanut butter and jelly that looked safe enough. Ben hummed as he took another bite. This was the best sandwich he’d ever eaten.

 

“This is perfect,” he said as he chewed. “I’ve been thinking about this for years.”

 

Allison’s hand paused. She had so many questions she wanted to ask Ben. Had he really been there the whole time? Had he been awake for all of it? She supposed that the whole point of ghosts was that they couldn’t rest, but she couldn’t fathom being awake for fourteen years straight. Especially if she’d had to be an unwilling observer to whatever it was that Klaus had been getting himself into. But it wouldn’t be fair to unload all those questions on Ben, who was still adjusting to being able to interact with the world again. So she lobbed a softball.

 

“Five said something about going to town. We could all go later, if there's anything that you want.”

 

“Milk,” Ben said immediately, running his tongue along his teeth. “Forgot how sticky peanut butter is. Oh, and maybe some books? I’ve only had the one, and Klaus and I don’t exactly have the same taste.”

 

The last book that Klaus had actually sat down to read was Vanya’s autobiography. Ben understood why she’d done it, but it still stung, some of the things she’d written. But he guessed he couldn’t complain. She’d been much kinder to him than she’d been about Klaus. He sighed. They could talk about it later.

 

“Anything else?” Allison asked. “Maybe we could try and see some movies?”

 

“Yeah,” Ben agreed quickly. “I have a bunch of them on my list. Not sure which ones have been made yet, but there’s gotta be something good out.”

 

“You have a list? Of what?” A lot of people liked to say that his sister was a self-absorbed. And they weren’t entirely wrong, but Allison had a way of honing in on the important things. Ben nodded slowly.

 

“Things I missed. Things I wish I’d said,” he said. “Things I would have done if I could.”

 

There was a beat of silence. Ben turned so he could look directly at Allison.

 

“Do you know what was at the top of it?” he asked, lowering his voice conspiratorially. Allison shook her head.

 

“Live my own life. The way I want to live it.”

 

Another small silence. Allison nodded.

 

“Yeah,” she said. She didn’t need to say more.

 

* * *

 

“There’s no one here.” Luther exerted a not inconsiderable effort to keep his voice level. He did fairly well, he liked to think. If Diego were there, he’d probably disagree. But Diego wasn’t there. No one was there. The entire city was empty.

 

He turned to ask Five if he had any theories, but the shorter boy was already half a block away, looking around. For clues, Luther presumed, though his brother’s deceptively young face just made it look like he was a bewildered baby deer. Luther had given up on trying to follow Five’s investigatory methods, so he decided to do some detective work of his own.

 

This largely involved picking a store at random and poking around inside. It was a small grocery store, which was some good news at least. They could bring supplies back with them. He moved through the aisles until he found a small selection of periodicals. A copy of some economics magazine at eye level had “Aug. 2004” printed neatly in the corner, and that was useful enough information, but Luther crouched to look at a spread of teeny bopper magazines two shelves down.

 

It was them. All of them, minus Vanya, standing together in front of a beachy looking backdrop. He only vaguely remembered the photoshoot. There’d been so many, right up until Ben had died. He frowned. He hadn’t had a chance to talk to Ben one on one yet, and frankly the thought of such an encounter scared him a little. Ben’s death had been horrific and violent and sudden. There were things that Luther had never had the chance to say, but now that the chance was right in front of him, he doubted his own mettle.

 

_ Later _ , he thought to himself. He needed to stay focused. He needed to regroup with Five, see if his brother had any theories on why the city was such a ghost town. He stood and headed back out to the street. Five wasn’t in sight any more, but that hardly mattered. Luther knew where he was heading. They always headed back home eventually, no matter how their paths diverged along the way. The gate leading into the mansion was already open, as was the front door.

 

“Five?” he called as he headed inside. He heard movement in the great hall and found Five standing in front of his portrait. “I found food. We can’t pay for it, but I guess if there’s no one to buy it from it’s not actually stealing, huh?”

 

“Technically,” Five said, without looking away from the painting, “we’re already breaking the law by trespassing at the camp. And in the big scheme of things, it’s all pretty insignificant next to more or less causing the apocalypse.”

 

He had a point. Luther wasn’t going to say it out loud; Five would get unbearably smug about it, but he quietly conceded the point and moved on.

 

“Found out when we landed, too. August 2004.” Five hummed, but still didn’t look away from the painting. It almost looked like he was searching for something, an answer hidden in the brushstrokes.

 

“Missed that one the first time,” he said.

 

“It was alright,” Luther said. “Some good movies. I got a new Walkman, but then Klaus hocked it for pot money. Oh, and we fought a giant robot that emerged from the Jefferson memorial.”

 

“Business as usual,” Five said. And then finally, he tore his gaze from the painting and looked up at Luther. “I didn’t find anyone here, either. Our bedrooms are all made up, and it  _ looks _ like people have been living here. But there’s no one.”

 

“What does that mean?” Luther asked.

 

“I have a theory. I need to check something.” And then Five was off again. Luther sighed and followed him out to the courtyard. It was just like it had always been. Uneven stones, oak tree, Ben’s memorial statue, back in one piece. Luther paused and frowned. He turned to Five and was surprised to find that his brother was watching him.

 

“The statue,” Luther said. “It’s not supposed to be here yet.” 

 

If it was August of 2004, they were supposed to have another year and some change before Ben would’ve died. Would’ve but wouldn’t. Not again, if they could help it. Five nodded and shoved his hands in his pockets.

 

“We’re not in 2004,” he announced. “Or at least not the real 2004.”

 

He waited a moment, as if he was waiting for Luther to ask. When he made a point of not asking, Five rolled his eyes and pushed forward.

 

“Time is fickle,” he said. “And traveling through it without precise instrumentation is like hurling a cannonball at the side of a barn. It’ll get the job done, but it leaves splinters.”

 

“So you’re saying we landed in a splinter?” Luther ventured. Five nodded. 

 

“It’s a pocket dimension, in simplest terms. A sort of manifestation of the knowledge of everyone who traveled. We saw each other as teens when we jumped, so this place looks like the world we knew when we were teens. But it pulled from our adult brains. In the real timeline, you all expect Ben’s statue to be here. So it’s here.” 

 

Luther took a moment to work this all over in his head. This was a world they’d subconsciously made together. With their brains. Okay. Sure. He’d read something similar in a book once. Granted, it was a science fiction novel, but it still made sense.

 

“So,” he started slowly, brows knitting as he thought out loud. “There aren’t any people because, what? They’re too complex?”

 

“Probably,” Five said. “Which is sort of good news, in the short term. It means we don’t have to worry about any collateral damage while we’re teaching Vanya how to use her powers. And there’s food, so we won’t starve.”

 

“But eventually we’ll need to go back,” Luther concluded.

 

“And when we do, we’ll have to choose a point in time to go back to. Either way, I’ll need time to figure out how to get us back safely, never mind figure out how the hell I'm going to find Diego,” Five added. There was a lot to unpack there.

 

“That’s something we can talk about later. With everyone else. For now, we should get some food and get back to the others.”


	4. Ghosts (Kinda)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Diego is surrounded by weird ghosts. Kinda.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Big thanks to my pal Mnemmy for beta-ing for me!

_ Founded in 1989 by Lady Regina Hargreeves, The Umbrella Institute strove to make the world a better place by following the simple mantra of helping others through the application of knowledge. Lady Hargreeves, already known as something of an eccentric adventurer millionaire, adopted children with certain aptitudes, gave them the finest education and training, and set them upon the task of making the world a better and safer for everyone. _

 

_ The Institute spearheaded Project Minerva, which proved pivotal to several breakthroughs in robotics and the development of the world’s first and only Autonomous Adaptive Artificial Intelligence. They also revolutionized transportation with the invention of the Mercury, an efficient-yet-affordable teleportation device. And of course, if they occasionally had to assist the police in the apprehension of some ne’er-do-wells, then that was all in a day’s work for the plucky students of The Umbrella Institute. _

 

* * *

 

The layout of the mansion was more or less the same. The second floor even had the same seven doors, and presumably the same seven bedrooms in some form. But instead of stopping there, Nerv directed him to the third floor, down a hallway of guest rooms. They were plainly decorated, almost like hospital rooms in how sterile they were. They were just missing the stinging, anti-septic smell.  

 

At least it was comfortable. Diego sprawled out on a newly made-up mattress, wearing a pair of sweatpants and shirt that he’d liberated from the gift shop. Because this place had a gift shop where the bar should be. Nerv had showed him an informational video that they’d used to show for tours, which felt like an old radio play or a really cheesy old comic more than anything. 

 

But based on Nerv’s occasional scoffs and eyerolls, Diego got the feeling that Lady Hargreeves wasn’t that far off from his own so-called father. She was just better at dressing up her bullshit. Diego had said as much, and Nerv had not tried to defend their apparent creator. Diego would dig more later. Right now, he was a little preoccupied trying to round up all the scattered thoughts in his head.

 

The facts were these: His family had averted an apocalypse. Sort of. Five had tried to jump them back in time. Diego hoped his brother had been more successful with the rest of them than he’d been with him. He took a beat. It wasn’t Five’s fault that he hadn’t made it. Regardless, he was here now, in a timeline where their dad was a mom but no less of an asshole, and all the humans had died from some incurable disease. And the only person still around was a ghost (“ _ Hologram _ ,” Nerv had pointedly corrected him after the third time.).

 

He laid out objectives in his mind and sorted them into manageable piles. Find food and water. The Institute would do as a place to post up, so shelter was taken care of. Rest? Sleep would come for him eventually, probably. And then there were the harder things. He needed to find out what had happened to his family. And if there was any way of getting in contact with them. 

 

“How the hell am I supposed to do that?” he mumbled to himself, dragging a hand down his face. In the time it took his hand to clear his eyes, Nerv appeared next to the bed. Diego jumped a little from the suddenness of it, scrambling into a sitting position. “Jesus, what the shit?”

 

Nerv was sporting a wide, slightly gap-toothed smile, and it only got bigger as Diego cursed. They clasped their hand behind their back and tilted their head to the side.

 

“You asked a question. It activated one of my subroutines. I’m here to provide information.”

 

“Wait, were you listening to me the whole time?” Diego asked, eyes narrowing.

 

“I’m wired to nearly every room in this house. I hear and see everything,” Nerv said with another twitch of their shoulders. The gesture felt apologetic.

 

“That’s fucking creepy,” Diego groused. “What kind of asshole would invent something to spy on people?”

 

“A rich one,” Nerv answered. “And for what it’s worth, if I had a choice to  _ not _ see everything that’s happened in this house, I’d take it. Now, did you have a question?”

 

Diego debated for a moment, not really in the mood for a chat in the wake of finding out that his new ghost roommate was like the misleadingly cute avatar for some kind of freaky Orwellian surveillance system. But he did have questions, and it wasn’t really Nerv’s fault that they’d been invented by a total creep. He made a point of unclenching his jaw before he spoke.

 

“Is there edible food?” he asked. Nerv stilled for a moment, eyes flickering back and forth like they were reading something. 

 

“There is an entire store of shelf-stable food and a water filtration system in the downstairs pantry. It should sustain one human life for the next ten to fifteen years.”

 

“That might be the best thing you’ve said all night,” Diego said.

 

“Thanks, I try.” Nerv replied. “Anything else?”

 

“Plenty, but I’ll save it for later. Is there any way that you can, I dunno, turn off your cameras in here? There’s no way in hell I’ll be able to sleep if I know you’re watching me.”

 

“I can’t interfere with that part of my programming,” Nerv said, “but if it helps, I have no visual systems in the bathrooms. Oh, and I can erase the footage of you changing a few minutes ago from my databanks.”

 

“God damn it,” Diego groaned, falling back onto the bed. “Yes, please do that. Always do that.”

 

“Of course. And again. Can’t stress this enough. If I could override my monitoring protocols, I would,” Nerv said before flickering out. 

 

Diego made a point to completely cover himself with the blankets and shut his eyes.

 

* * *

 

The supply in the pantry turned out to be a lot of dried grains and beans, canned goods, and freeze-dried astronaut food, probably the kind of stuff that Luther had been choking down while he’d been on the moon. Maybe this was some kind of cosmic karma, Diego mused, for mocking his brother. But then he remembered the derision in Luther’s voice when he’d pointed out that Diego mopped floors and quickly dismissed the idea of karmic punishment. The simple truth was that he could be an ass sometimes, and so could Luther.

 

Perhaps sensing his annoyance at being observed, Nerv had given him a wide berth all morning, only appearing in the kitchen for a few moments to walk him through the water filtration system before disappearing once more, saying something about doing some systems maintenance. Which was fine. It gave Diego room to think and get a better sense of this new, dead world.

 

It had looked close enough to his world in the dark, but under the scrutiny of a slowly creeping sunrise, the differences jumped out. The cars, for one, had more rounded frames, were more compact. Instead of regular billboards, there were gigantic screens, almost uncomfortable to look at in their brightness as they played through different advertisements. And then there were the people wandering around. They all wore the same, blank expression as they passed him by, never breaking stride, their steps an unrelenting rhythm on otherwise silents streets.

 

He stopped in front of a pawn shop, taking in the display in the window. It was comfortingly similar to the pawn shops back home, stuffed with guitars and record players and old books. And in the center of the window, there was a comic book for The Umbrella Institute. The cover featured seven children, not much older than Diego and his siblings had been when they’d gone on their first mission. The tag underneath boasted that the comic was a “Mint Condition, First Print Issue. Pre-Crush. Very Rare.”

 

There’d been similar comics about his family when he was growing up. He remembered sneaking copies of them up to the attic at night, sitting shoulder to shoulder with Klaus and Ben as they read from under the perceived safety of a pilfered bedsheet. They’d gotten a kick out of them, commenting on how close the artists had come to how things had actually happened. 

 

But that had become less fun as time had rolled on and their missions became increasingly traumatic in nature. It felt more and more like reliving a nightmare, until one night, they all huddled under the sheet and didn’t bother to open the comic. They’d just sat there together, not saying a word, but all somehow understanding that that would be the last time.

 

He cleared his throat and kept walking. And that’s when he spotted the blurry outline of a teenage Luther emerging from a convenience store. His brother ran past him, back towards home. Diego followed without hesitation, reaching for Luther’s shoulder. It went right through the blurry outline. Diego wasn’t sure what he’d been expecting, but it was frustrating nonetheless. With a huff, he kept pace with Luther until they reached the mansion.  He heard his brother call out, though it sounded fuzzy and far away, like a radio that wasn’t tuned quite right.

 

“Five?” Luther said. Diego walked forward, and sure enough, a blurry outline of Five materialized out of thin air, standing in the great hall, right in front of where his painting would’ve been back home. 

 

“Shit,” Diego said, watching as Luther joined Five in the hall. Was this really happening? There was no way he was hallucinating yet, right?

 

“Diego.” He’d been so focused on his possibly-not-really-there brothers that he hadn’t even noticed Nerv appearing next to him. “My sensors indicate that there’s some kind of temporal…. I guess the best word would be an intrusion, but if they’re friends of yours, I don’t mind.”

 

Well, at least Diego wasn’t hallucinating. 

 

“They’re my brothers,” he said. And then, mostly because he couldn’t think of anything else to do, he called out to them. “Hey! Five! Luther!”

 

They did not turn around, not respond to him at any rate. Instead, Five turned on heel and walked through him, back through the foyer and out to the courtyard, with Luther a few steps behind. Though it was unnecessary, Nerv stepped out of the way as they walked through, looking between the shadows of Diego’s brothers and the man himself.

 

“Fascinating,” they said. Diego didn’t respond, instead stepping outside with his brothers. They were looking at the spot where Diego knew Ben’s statue was supposed to be. He’d spent enough time doing the exact same thing. But instead of Ben’s statue, the Institute had a statue of a young person with a head full of big, wavy, curls and a bright smile. The plaque underneath had an embossed owl, next to a tidy script that read, “May you guide us ever on.”

 

There were dead flowers and dirty teddy bears around the base of the statue, as if it’d once been a well-trafficked memorial. Diego felt a pang of guilt. Ben’s statue had never had flowers like that. Because after he’d died, there’d been no one left to leave them. Diego had barely beat Vanya out the door, Klaus following quickly behind her. And Allison had only stayed long enough to realize that Luther was never going to leave, not even with her.

 

Diego didn’t regret leaving, and he certainly didn’t hold it against any of the others, but that didn’t change the fact that they should’ve done better by Ben. Should’ve done better by Mom. And each other. Maybe they’d do better the second time around. His brothers began to move again. Diego followed them until the edge of the city, where their shadowy outlines faded into the settling dusk.

 

* * *

 

When he returned, Nerv was waiting in the doorway, bouncing on the heels of their feet.

 

“Were you able to make contact?” Diego shook his head as he walked straight to the kitchen. There were instant noodles in the pantry, which seemed like the easiest option, so he put on a pot of water and waited while it boiled. He savored the moment of quiet. Nerv had looked eager to speak to him; they’d probably ask a bunch of questions that Diego wasn’t ready to answer. So he decided to ask them some questions first.

 

“Hey,” he said, glancing over at the kitchen doorway where Nerv was hovering just out of sight. “I thought you said all of the people were dead.”

 

“They are,” Nerv confirmed, moving into the kitchen. 

 

“There were people walking around outside,” Diego said.

 

“Androids. They’re the city’s cleaning crew, more or less. They’re programmed to pick up any messes. Keep things tidy. Do they not have androids where you’re from?”

 

Diego thought of Mom, who had tirelessly cared for the seven of them. Technically, he supposed she was an android. But the term felt too impersonal for her, so he shook his head at the question.

 

“But you’re not like them. You’re just this?” Diego gestured up and down with a hand to indicated the glowing hologram in their entirety.

 

“I’m not an android; I’m an AI. They’re programmed for set tasks, but I learn and adapt.” It seemed Diego had unintentionally hit a sore spot. Nerv crossed their arms over their chest and sniffed indignantly. “And I’ll have you know that I do have a body. I just can’t access it. Otherwise I wouldn’t stick around here.”

 

Diego thought of Mom, who had worked for a man who didn’t even have the decency to give her a room. She’d been trapped. Apparently this kid… hologram was trapped too. He picked the packet of noodles open and turned to dump them in the water.

 

“Why can’t you get to your body?”

 

“It’s broken.”

 

“Aren’t you some kind of super advanced whatever? Why don’t you just fix it?” Diego asked, raising an eyebrow. Nerv looked openly affronted now.

 

“Hardware, not software, otherwise I would’ve fixed it already. But it’s surprisingly hard to reattach wires and stuff when you don’t have fingers.” They waved the fingers on one hand to make a point. "And if it's so easy, why don't _you_ fix it?"

 

“Well it can’t be too complicated. Machines are machines,” Diego said. He grabbed the handle of the pan and gave it a wiggle to stir up the noodles. “If you have an instruction manual, then I’m sure I can figure it out.” 

 

For a moment, there was quiet, and Diego realized that he'd thrown Nerv for a loop with the offer. But they recovered quickly enough, lifting their chin proudly.

 

“It’s very complicated, actually,” Nerv said, uncrossing their arms and giving their hair a theatrical toss. “But I’m sure that with my expert instruction, you can get through it. And it’ll be a fun thing to keep you occupied while I calculate the most likely ways we can reach across time and space to contact your family.”

 

And with that, they made a show of turning on heel and strutting out of the room.

 

“Show-off,” Diego muttered under his breath.

 

“I can still hear you!” Nerv hollered from the next room.


	5. Valid/Invalid

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Klaus speculates. Vanya wakes up. Diego does some maintenance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the gap between updates! I'm pulling 50-hour weeks at work right now, and it's absolutely kicking my ass. Will try to get a chapter up a week.
> 
> Also, when I wrote my first outline for this fic (while I was working on Chapter 2), it was originally going to be about 7 chapters. I think, and this is just a wild guess, that it might go a hair longer.
> 
> Thanks Mnemmy for the beta!

At first they had all agreed to take turns sitting with Vanya. They didn’t want her to wake up alone in a new place, to say nothing of the fact that they were teenagers again. It would all probably be overwhelming. But then they thought about how Vanya’s last memories might be her holding four of her brothers on the edge of death after they’d crashed her concert. So now mostly Allison and Ben sat with Vanya.

 

Occasionally Klaus would slink in, usually under the pretense of delivering food and more often than not grumbling half-heartedly about how quiet it was. Apparently, there weren’t any spectres, friendly or otherwise, in this pocket dimension they’d created. Which Ben thought made sense. This place was essentially an elaborate Potemkin village; if people had never actually been here, then of course no one had died here. Really, Ben suspected that for all the ghosts that had ever scarred him, Klaus felt bereft of company without at least Ben’s constant companionship.

 

“Maybe he landed on a tropical island, and he’s having a much needed vacation. Toes in the sand and all that.” When the moments of silence at Vanya’s bedside became too stifling, Klaus had taken to speculating about the whereabouts of their missing brother. It was strange that prior to their father’s death, they had all gone years without seeing each other, and yet in the eight days between the funeral and the end of everything, they’d all grown used to one another again.

 

“Probably still wearing that stupid suit,” Allison chipped in, smiling a little as she poked at the omelette that Klaus had brought her.

 

“Oh, I dunno,” Klaus said airily. “I liked the suit. It was very flattering on him.”

 

He waggled his eyebrows a little, and Allison laughed around a bite of egg before turning to Ben.

 

“Do you think he sewed it himself?” she asked. Now that she could see Ben again, she always made a point to include him in conversations. Ben appreciated it, and he looked up from his book and narrowed his eyes, weighing the question. The mental image of Diego, scowling as he hunched over a sewing table, was admittedly hilarious.

 

“Probably,” Ben said. “Maybe Mom taught him.”

 

Klaus’s grin widened at the thought, and Allison laughed, patting Ben on the arm with her free hand.

 

“You’re so right,” she said. After a beat of laughter, she sighed and smiled a little. “It’s actually kinda cute to think about. Makes you wonder how much better off we’d be if Mom had raised us on her own.”

 

“It would’ve been safer, for sure,” Ben said.

 

He absently ran his fingers along the front of his shirt, skimming but not fully touching his chest before he let his hand rest limply on his knee. He hadn’t used his powers since the Icarus, and no one was about to push him to. Allison could still remember growing up, passing Ben’s room on her way to her own and hearing soft sniffles. None of them ever talked about the individual training they’d undergone with their father, but it had been a kind of hell for each of them. Allison shuddered to think of what kind of terrible “lessons” Reginald Hargreeves had cooked up for someone with power like Ben’s. She reached out and patted her brother’s hand with her own. His lips curved in a gentle smile, and he closed his fingers around her hand.

 

“Ben?” The question startled the three of them, and they simultaneously turned to look at the bed. Vanya was bleary-eyed but awake, squinting as she slowly tried to sit up. Allison moved in an instant, threading her arm behind her sister to support her head and shoulders.

 

“Hey, Vanya,” she said. “Careful. Don’t try to sit up too fast.”

 

Klaus busied himself with pouring a glass of water from the pitcher they’d been keeping on the small table. He held it out, but Vanya didn’t seem to notice it. Ben stood at the foot of the bed, hands in his pockets, unsure of what to do with himself.

 

“Hey, Vanya,” he said, a little hesitant. He wondered how much she remembered. Did she know that he was supposed to be dead? Had Vanya even been aware of him at the Icarus? He’d been a glowing blue spectre wielding an otherworldly, multi-limbed horror, but in her defense she’d seemed pretty focused at the time, what with her death symphony thing.   

 

“What happened?” Vanya asked, her voice cracking over the words. “My head is killing me.”

 

Klaus held out the glass of water again, and this time Vanya accepted it. She drank so fast that Ben worried that she’d choke. Slightly breathless, Vanya turned and placed the drained glass on the small nightstand.

 

“What’s the last thing you remember?”

 

Allison wasn’t sure what kind of answer she was hoping for. If Vanya remembered everything, then at least it would be out in the open, not some horrible, lurking secret hanging over their heads like a sword on a wire. But the weight of that knowledge might be too much for Vanya. Allison wasn’t even sure how she’d handle it. Vanya had gone quiet, staring down at her hands in her lap.

 

“There was just so much energy,” she said after a moment. “And I knew that I should stop. But I couldn’t hold it back, and….”

 

She trailed off, and her lip trembled. Allison was there in an instant, wrapping her arms around her sister. Klaus hugged from the other side, his limbs so long and lanky that his hand rested on Allison’s back. It took a moment for Ben to join in; he stood watch and then started, as if suddenly remembering that he was visible again. He stood next to Klaus, taking Vanya’s hand and holding tight, resting his other arm along Klaus’s shoulder. They really had to stop trying group hugs where some of them were sitting down.

 

“It’s okay, Vanya,” Allison said softly. “It’s okay. We’re here.”

 

“It’s not,” Vanya said through tears. “What I did. I was going to---”

 

“We forgive you.” Klaus’s voice was also soft, but confident. “After everything you went through? I would’ve blown up the moon too.”

 

“What?” Vanya leaned back, using her free hand to wipe at her eyes. “I blew up the moon?”

 

“Oh,” Klaus said slowly. “Right, you were already unconscious.”

 

“It’s okay,” Allison quickly cut in. “Five jumped us all back. It hasn’t happened yet. And it won’t. Not this time.”

 

“Why? Because you’re going to lock me up again? Or attack me?” The turn in Vanya’s tone was sudden and sharp, and Allison fought the urge to pull away. She made eye contact with Klaus over the top of Vanya’s head. Klaus merely shrugged a little.

 

“She has a valid point. Trying to dogpile on her was _not_ a good look.”

 

“It’s not going to be like that this time, Vanya. We love you. We don’t want to hurt you or control you. We just want to help. So you can learn to control you powers.” Allison’s tone was even, sincere.

 

“We know how hard that can be,” Ben said pointedly. Vanya’s grip on his fingers tightened a little.

 

“Does Luther feel the same way?” she asked, sounding more uncomfortable than angry now.

 

“Another valid point,” Klaus muttered. Allison nudged him, and he shrugged again. “What? I love the big guy, but you’ve gotta admit: decisions were made, and some of them were just. Divinely awful.”

 

“They were,” a voice agreed from behind them. Even as a teenager, Luther managed to fill most of the doorway. He was hunched a little, guilt sloping his shoulders. “Um. Hey, Vanya. Can we talk?”

 

* * *

 

Nerv’s android body was smaller than Diego had expected it to be. Also lighter, considering that it was essentially a metal can full of wires and whatever else. Not that Diego would call it that out loud. He had a feeling Nerv would find some way to exact revenge.

 

More interesting though was the way the body looked. It had some of Nerv’s features, but it looked more like the statue from the courtyard than the hologram standing next to him. The questions that observation prompted were obvious, but Diego kept them to himself for now. One problem at a time.

 

“Sure this is you, kid? This looks like your more wholesome twin,” he commented. Nerv laughed at that and shrugged.

 

“After I got locked out, one of the kids felt bad for me. They installed a subroutine that lets me edit my non-essential functions. Mostly cosmetic stuff, but given the circumstances I wasn’t gonna complain.” Nerv ran a hand through their thick curls, much shorter than the android’s.

 

“Small victories, huh?” Diego said.

 

“Something like that, sure.” The truth was that there hadn’t been real victories in the Institute. Just small ways to temporarily push back against Regina Hargreeves’s iron will before it came crashing back into them. But Nerv’s programming didn’t allow them to criticize Regina, so instead they just said, “We can set up in the downstairs workshop. I’ll show you where the tools and spare parts are.”

 

As it turned out, with a blueprint in front of him and an immaculately maintained set of tools to work with, fixing a highly sophisticated android was not unlike fixing something like a watch. He’d once watched Ben take apart and reassemble the delicate gears and springs of a wristwatch, just to see if he could.

 

At the time they’d been twelve, and Diego couldn’t fathom sitting still for that long, doing just one thing for hours. But Ben had managed it, and he hadn’t even had the schematics right in front of him. Or a very concerned AI hovering just out of the corner of his eye, watching with big, unblinking eyes as he worked.

 

Diego figured that if Ben could replicate Swiss clockwork flying blind, then he could fix what Nerv had described as a “mostly functioning. Like 96 percent functioning” android body. And so far nothing had caught on fire, and Nerv had kept their input limited to the occasional, “Actually, that circuit shows some corrosion. Replace it from that bin.” He figured he was doing alright. That didn’t make it any less frustrating.

 

“Okay, but what about Nirvana?” Nerv had spent the past hour reclined lazily along the breakfast table, hands pillowed under their head, occasionally asking Diego about music and movies, trying to find, in their words, overlapping data points.

 

Diego hummed and nodded, more focused on gently removing a small, gray square of plastic from the wiring, the latest of many. They weren’t on the schematic, and Nerv had taken a quick look at the first one and rolled their eyes and told him it was more than okay to toss it. Apparently, Nerv had had a habit of pushing their boundaries, and Regina Hargreeves had responded to their curiosity by installing various chips to prevent them from pushing. Diego thought of Mom and his jaw tightened.

 

“Yeah,” he sighed, finally prising the chip away and tossing it in the trash can by his feet. “We had Nirvana. Not for long enough, though.”

 

The first record he’d ever bought himself had been a slightly worn copy of Nevermind that he’d found in a pawn shop. He’d seen the cover and thought, “Huh. A naked baby. That’s weird.” It was different from the music that he usually liked, but it had blown the top of his head off. He’d run down the hall, grabbed Klaus and Ben, and dragged them back to listen with him. Ben had cried in the middle of “Drain You,” and Diego had just nodded and put a hand on his shoulder in solidarity.

 

“Shit,” he grumbled, toggling his attention between the schematics on the screen on the wall and the bundle of wires he was inspecting.

 

“It’s the--” Nerv began.

 

“No, I know which wire. You just told me two minutes ago,” Diego ground out, now glaring at the screen. “But there’s extra shit in here.”

 

“What kind of shhh…”Nerv started the word but fell silent, as if someone had turned their volume down. They made a frustrated grumble of a noise and tried again. “What kind of _stuff_?”

 

“Here.” Diego held up the bundle of wires. Nerv’s hologram flickered and reappeared directly next to him, frowning.

 

“Well that’s… Not supposed to be there,” They reached out and traced along one of the wires with one, glowing finger.

 

“That’s what I’ve been saying!” Diego turned the bundle over in his hand, tugging gently at the offending piece. He couldn’t even tell what it ran to.

 

“What’re you doing?” Nerv asked. Diego looked at them over his shoulder, fixing them with a flat stare.

 

“I’m taking it out. Look, if we boot the damn thing---”

 

“Hey!”

 

“Sorry. If we reactive your body and it turns out you need the wire, then we’ll put it back in. Doesn’t make sense to have stuff in there if you don’t need it.”

 

“A valid point,” Nerv said with a quirk of their eyebrows. “Suppose that the only thing left to do is try to reinitialize.”

 

Diego followed the extra wire with his fingers, tracing it back into the android body. He was careful not to touch the outside of the robot, unnerved by how real the skin felt. Once he’d disconnected everything he needed to, he carefully bundled and replaced everything and glanced up at Nerv, still perched on the table.

 

“Okay,” the said. “There’s a button behind the left ear. Hold it down for three seconds. It should start the rebooting process.” They pointed to the corresponding area on their hologram. Diego found the button and pressed it as instructed. There was a whirring noise, an almost inaudible hum as the inside of the android lit up.

 

“Now what?” Diego asked. Nerv didn’t answer, didn’t move. Diego waved a hand at them. “Kid?” a few more seconds passed by before Nerv moved once more.

 

“Sorry, I was trying to jump over, but there’s something blocking me. There should be a small display screen-- yeah, that. What does it say?” Diego bent down a little to read the script on the small rectangle peeking out from the wiring.

 

“It says, ‘Credentials Invalid.’” Nerv let out a frustrated grunt.

 

“Of _course_ it does,” they said. “She wouldn’t leave me a way back in. Noooo, she had to be in control of everything. What a bi---”

 

The sound of Nerv’s voice dropped out again and they put their face in their hands and screamed, stomping a foot against the ground. Diego gave them a minute; he understood being pissed off at a shitty parental figure.

 

“Sorry,” Nerv apologized a minute later, peeking from between their fingers. “It’s basically telling us that we need a password. I don’t know what it is, but I have an idea of where it might’ve been written down.”

 

“Should I wait here?” Diego asked. Nerv shook their head.

 

“No, I need your help to get it. Regina’s study is one of the rooms that I can’t access. Do you know how to pick a lock?” Diego considered saying that he broke into places for a living, but out of context that just made him sound bad.

 

“I think I can manage.”

 

“Good. Follow me.”

 


End file.
